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The Rulebreaker
Being brought up in a conservative joint family, I was supposed to follow certain ideals. Except for the good ones.
Never look a man in the eye.
Never argue with him.
Don't try to compete with his knowledge.
Do what he expects you to do.
You are His servant.
For eighteen years I followed these rules, having known I would pay heavily if I didn't. The girls at school never quizzed me about the welts on my arms, they had worse marks themselves. I'm not talking about their exams.
When my marriage was fixed to a rich NRI, I didn't have the strength to break the rules. So I made him my master, and allowed him to do whatever he wanted. And when he left me, my elders expected me not to so much as blink an eye and find a new master for myself. Marriage was just a business transaction-once it fell apart, just go ahead and search for some other prospective client.
But while leaving me, he did what no other man had done-he actually left me a gift for letting him take me for granted. He gave me my daughter, the most beautiful girl in the world.
I lived in shame, kicked out of my house with no option but to go to Delhi. I was alone and frightened. I could manage an apartment only in a seedy area, and at night I used to sleep with the worry they would barge open the door and kill me, leaving my baby all alone.
Then I finally found a job. And that's where I met hin.
He was extremely handsome, with a well-built stature, a sense of dignity and composure on his face and the most charming dark eyes. He was short-tempered and always berated me for the smallest things.
But when I was in front of him, he made me break all the rules.
I used to look him straight in the eye while defending myself. If there was something wrong with his presentation I openly pointed it out. I defied all his rooms. And yet a question lingered at the back of my mind-if he had zero tolerance for those who dared to defy him, then why did he ever bear me in the first place?
Things came to a head when he spotted a picture of my daughter on my work table. When I curtly told him she was my baby, his face fell, and for a moment I felt pity for him. After that he started to behave strangely, staying away from me, making excuses as to why I couldn't attend a meeting.
And then suddenly, someone in the office offered him a piece of malicious gossip-my single mother status.
His behaviour changed. From a jerk to silent treatment to an admirer. For months I wondered who was the one who consoled my daughter when I was late to pick her up one day. The man who left roses on my doorstep. A mysterious caller to alerted the police to the going-ons in my area. Leaving me an envelope when I was searching for funds for my daughter's nursery fees and saying, "Do not consider this as a favour. Return the sum to be by two weeks in the address given below."
Two weeks after, I took a bus to the hotel, wanting to apologize for not having the money to return the entire loan. And standing there in all his glory was Maan Singh Khurana with a diamond ring in his hand.
And I, Geet Singh Khurana, am writing this story on the day of my first anniversary, hoping that all those who read this will finally understand why all rules are broken in love.
Being brought up in a conservative joint family, I was supposed to follow certain ideals. Except for the good ones.
Never look a man in the eye.
Never argue with him.
Don't try to compete with his knowledge.
Do what he expects you to do.
You are His servant.
For eighteen years I followed these rules, having known I would pay heavily if I didn't. The girls at school never quizzed me about the welts on my arms, they had worse marks themselves. I'm not talking about their exams.
When my marriage was fixed to a rich NRI, I didn't have the strength to break the rules. So I made him my master, and allowed him to do whatever he wanted. And when he left me, my elders expected me not to so much as blink an eye and find a new master for myself. Marriage was just a business transaction-once it fell apart, just go ahead and search for some other prospective client.
But while leaving me, he did what no other man had done-he actually left me a gift for letting him take me for granted. He gave me my daughter, the most beautiful girl in the world.
I lived in shame, kicked out of my house with no option but to go to Delhi. I was alone and frightened. I could manage an apartment only in a seedy area, and at night I used to sleep with the worry they would barge open the door and kill me, leaving my baby all alone.
Then I finally found a job. And that's where I met hin.
He was extremely handsome, with a well-built stature, a sense of dignity and composure on his face and the most charming dark eyes. He was short-tempered and always berated me for the smallest things.
But when I was in front of him, he made me break all the rules.
I used to look him straight in the eye while defending myself. If there was something wrong with his presentation I openly pointed it out. I defied all his rooms. And yet a question lingered at the back of my mind-if he had zero tolerance for those who dared to defy him, then why did he ever bear me in the first place?
Things came to a head when he spotted a picture of my daughter on my work table. When I curtly told him she was my baby, his face fell, and for a moment I felt pity for him. After that he started to behave strangely, staying away from me, making excuses as to why I couldn't attend a meeting.
And then suddenly, someone in the office offered him a piece of malicious gossip-my single mother status.
His behaviour changed. From a jerk to silent treatment to an admirer. For months I wondered who was the one who consoled my daughter when I was late to pick her up one day. The man who left roses on my doorstep. A mysterious caller to alerted the police to the going-ons in my area. Leaving me an envelope when I was searching for funds for my daughter's nursery fees and saying, "Do not consider this as a favour. Return the sum to be by two weeks in the address given below."
Two weeks after, I took a bus to the hotel, wanting to apologize for not having the money to return the entire loan. And standing there in all his glory was Maan Singh Khurana with a diamond ring in his hand.
And I, Geet Singh Khurana, am writing this story on the day of my first anniversary, hoping that all those who read this will finally understand why all rules are broken in love.
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